


the ways you said "I love you"

by Assassin_J



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Amputee Desmond Miles, Angel Wings, Domestic, Human Outsider, M/M, Not a Crossover, One Shot Collection, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-AC3, Prompt Fic, autistic characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-10-09 02:43:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17398505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assassin_J/pseuds/Assassin_J
Summary: short pieces written by request based onthis list





	1. Over a cup of tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nikas-corner asked: "THE WAYS I SAID ILY + CLAYDES + 4!!!!!!!! THANK U"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last edited January 29 2019

"Uhh, shoot, there's no coffee left. Pretty sure Shaun drank the last of it."

"That guy's not human," Clay said, "He's a robot powered by coffee. Like Bender, but coffee instead of beer, and also a lot less cool."

"Don't say that to his face."

"Oh, I doubt he's ever seen Futurama."

"Whatever." Desmond brought out a ziploc bag from the depths of the pantry. "We got uhhh. Chai tea? It's caffeine at least."

After a few seconds consideration, Clay shrugged. "Yeah okay, that works."

Desmond nodded and went over to the stove, clicking it on.

"Need any help with that? Don't want you burning yourself even more than already happened."

"I'm fine, I can do it one-handed," Desmond said quickly. He moved the faucet handle with his elbow and held a pot under the spout. "Besides, if you tried to help, your big-ass wings would get in the way."

Clay faux-pouted, slouching forward onto the table. "They'll get in the way of _anything_ , really. And I can barely even fly with 'em anymore. Pointless."

"Mm-hmm." Desmond handed him a ceramic mug handpainted teal. "You can have the one that's less chipped." He reached back in the pantry afterward to get himself a mug.

Clay smiled watching his graceful movements. "You're really coping well."

"Hm? I guess so, yeah." Desmond touched the bandaged stump of his right arm, looking at it, thinking. The skin on the end was totally numb most days, except sometimes when it flared into horrible pain. "Except I'm not much of an Assassin anymore."

"Was _Malik_ not an Assassin, either?"

Desmond rolled his eyes. "I can't stay in a fucking bureau like Malik. The world's different these days."

Clay exhaled, nodding. "Sure is. Sure is." A moment later, he added, "But there's lots of shit you can still do. You're not useless, not by a long shot."

"Eh." Bubbling noises alerted Desmond that the water was ready. He took the pot and slowly poured water into each mug, then set a tea bag in.

Clay swirled his mug, watching the hot fluid swirl, then glanced up to Desmond again. "Did you know there's talk of getting you a prosthesis?"

"Yeah, I saw Dad doing some research," Desmond said. "I dunno if it'll work out, though."

"If I can figure out how to work these things," Clay lifted his wings briefly, "you can sure as hell figure out to use a prosthesis."

"I mean like actually obtaining it in the first place, and fitting it onto me, all that crap." It was at this point that the fic was getting far too serious and deep for an ask prompt, so Desmond took a swig of his tea, then immediately yelped out "Agurvgh! I burd my tugue!"

"Burned your tongue! Oh no, not your tongue, I love your tongue!"

"You wha?"

Clay laughed, a little awkwardly. "I, uh, love your tongue. And the rest of you too."


	2. As we huddle together, the storm raging outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: "for the prompt thing: 20 & corvosider"

"You brought this on yourself."

"Haa-choo!"

Corvo suppressed a snicker. "I told you you'd catch cold if you stayed out there."

Ouri, the Outsider, the ex-figurehead of the endless roiling Void, sneezed again.

With quick reflexes, Corvo held a handkerchief up to catch the effluence.

After the sneeze, Ouri inhaled, the sound discordant, thick with mucus. "You're laughing at me."

"I am not!"

"Autistic as I am, I can still tell when you-" A crash of thunder drowned out the rest of his reply. When the noise abated he was left frowning at Corvo.

"I am laughing," Corvo said, "but not **at you**."

"At what, then?"

"At nothing really."

"It's a sign of madness to laugh at nothing."

"Oh no it isn't. People laugh when they're happy."

"You're- ah-" Ouri snatched the handkerchief from him. "Ah-haahchooo!" He blew into it, then dropped it on the floor. "You're happy while I'm sick. Fabulous."

Corvo shook with another suppressed laugh. "I'm happy to **be here for you** while you're sick."

"Mm. Will you be happy to find another handkerchief for me? That one's thoroughly used," Ouri said, pointing with his shoe at it.

Corvo just smiled and pulled a clean one from a pocket in his vest.

Ouri went "Mm" again, a small smile curling his mouth too. "Of course, the Empire's Royal Protector is always prepared, for any occurrence from a coup to a cold."

Corvo gave a slight nod. "So, in the future will you listen to me when I tell you not to stand in the rain? I know you're not used to taking commands, but-"

“It’s not about taking commands,” Ouri interrupted. “I just like the feel of the rain. It’s so… tactile.” He wiggled his fingers to express the point.

"Do you like sneezing and shivering too?" Corvo asked, waggling the new handkerchief at him.

Ouri didn't take the kerchief. Instead, he took hold of Corvo's entire hand, stilling the waggle. "There are far worse maladies to suffer." He smiled teasingly, the shape long and sharp across his face. "And while I suffer, I have you to care for me."

Corvo reflected a smile back. “You’ve done plenty for me in the past, it’s good I can finally give something back.” Another thunderclap came, and he scooted closer on the sofa. As the noise faded, and a new bolt of lightning flashed outside the window, he said, “I love you.”

Cheeks flush, perhaps with fever as well as emotion, Ouri bowed his head and put a soft kiss to Corvo's hand, to the place where his old name had used to hide under wraps of cloth.


End file.
